Time Enough For Love
by Mana Yood Sushai
Summary: Shepard: the Hero of the Citadel and Saviour of the Galaxy. The man who stands up to the Reapers. And yet, behind all the legend, the courage, and bravery, there lies simply a man looking for a bit of love in the uncaring Universe. GarrusXMaleShep
1. Chapter 1

_"They cannot see that space is our salvation, not our damnation."_

* * *

><p>Commander Shepard sat in the swivel chair, lazily looking through battle reports and dossiers and newsflash paper copies which lay scattered across his desk in his own personal quarters, on board the Normandy SR-2. At the same time, the holo-visor behind him was broadcasting the news.<p>

"_Just coming in are reports that-_"said the human reporter, who was sitting alongside another asari reporter, "-_there have been a number of anti-human riots on several Turian worlds, with the most violent culminating on the Turian homeworld of Palaven, where estimates put the death toll to one-hundred-and-seventy-six. The Turian Hierarchy has yet to comment on the events-_"

He paid no attention to what was being said on the news, and he picked up one copy of a recent article that had recently appeared on a Terminus system newsflash edition, which read in large bold letters: _More Mysterious Disappearances on Human Fringe Colonies: When will it End?_

He grabbed the copy and skimped through it before he put it aside. The newsflash edition copy below it showed a disturbing hazy picture of a large organic-looking ship in the sky, with red captions underneath reading: _Sightings of Mysterious Objects on the skies above the Human Colonies of Santanni and Maitreya. Are the Reapers real?_

Once again, he put that copy to the side, and he put his hand to his head, listening to the news.

"_Today,_" said the asari reporter, who was now speaking in a nice and soothing voice, "_several prominent religious leaders of the major faiths of the galaxy, including the Pope of Earth and the hanar patriarch, have convened on the human planet of Vega, to discuss several important issues-_"

It seemed like he would never stop fighting; the more he thought about it, the farther away a peaceful life seemed. The way it was looking, he would more than likely end up dying in a battlefield.

The Galaxy was such a dark and violent place, never static, always changing and moving, usually for the worse.

_God-damn it, _he thought, biting his lips and leaning back on his chair, placing his hands behind his head.

* * *

><p>He stayed like that for a while, looking at the ceiling, lost in thought, until he glanced at the digital clock on his desk, which read 7:23 PM Standard Earth Time (10:23 PM Standard Citadel Time, as read the clock, which displayed both times).<p>

He stood up, and walked over to the side of his large bed, by the corner, where he reached for a small collapsible tray-table that was reclining against the wall. Once he had grabbed it, he stood up and set it up in the middle of the room.

Afterwards, he grabbed the chair from his desk and put it up on the table. He then reached for a collapsible chair that was against the wall and set it up, putting it up to the table, facing the other chair.

_Alright, that looks good, _he thought, placing one hand to his chin.

He wished he could've gone somewhere more romantic, somewhere better. Instead, he was stuck in the cold frigid expanse of space, in the equally cold and un-welcoming glass-and-metal starship that was the Normandy. Not that he disliked the ship.

No, he did not. But for his current purposes, he would have liked something better,

_What would he think of the beaches on Earth? _he wondered. _Maybe he'd like them – nice warm weather and sun, and palm trees and water… _

He walked over to the small nullenthrophic refrigerator near his officer's desk, where he took out two frozen prepared meals: one for turians, and one for humans (_Damn the difference between dextro-amino and levo-amino acids, _he thought). He took the two out from their packaged boxes and set the two on the small microwave, and as they cooked, he took out two glass plate, which he set on the table.

As the meals cooked in the microwave, he sat at the edge of the bed, and toying around, he made a small singularity between his fingers.

_Ooh, yeah_, thought Shepard, enlarging the singularity, watching it float above his hand. He would have gone on until two things happened: one, the objects near him, such as the lamp and alarm clock, began to shake, attracted to the mass effect field. Secondly, the timer on the microwave rung, indicating that the meals were cooked and ready.

He closed his hand, and the singularity disappeared with a small _plop!_. He enjoyed using his biotic powers; it was something that never ceased to amuse him. And it was handy in combat. Sometimes, he didn't even have to use a gun.

Standing up, he walked over and took out the meals from the microwave. His meal was a meatloaf in tomato sauce with rice and greens. He took the plastic cover off, and carefully transferred the food to one of the glass dishes he had on the table.

He also took out the turian meal. He looked at it, wondering what it tasted like. It was giving off a strange odor, and he wondered how turians could enjoy such food (the labels on the box had said the meal was _Kavalah with steamed pajku and kale Palaven-style! _Whatever the hell that was_)_

He too transferred the contents onto the other plate, and arranged it to look as though he had actually cooked the food from scratch. No doubt it would fool the turian anyways.

After he had transferred the two meals to the two plates, he stretched his hands out, and, with a little bit of concentration, mentally took hold of the black plastic trays where the food had been cooked in, and, with a slow motion, he made fists with his both hands.

The two trays rose and hovered, and crumpled, as if some invisible hand were taking them and smashing them. He then relaxed his fists, and the crumpled-up trays fell to the floor. With a dismissive sweep of his hand, the trays threw themselves in the trashcan.

Grinning, he went back to his bed, and sat down on it. As he looked at the food arranged on the table, he cursed himself.

_Damn it. Stupid me. Unless he gets here in a while, the food's going to get cold._

Meanwhile, a commercial was showing on the holo-visor. It was an advertisement about travels off-world (_For those special off-world vacations, don't choose others, choose us, Quality Travels. Look for us in your nearest district, or on the intranet)._

The news were starting again when there was a knock on the door, and Shepard, smiling, stood up from his bed and walked up to it (as he did, he was happy to see that there was still steam rising from the food), reaching up for the light-switch dial near the door and dimming lights.

With the press of a button on the side of it, the door slid open.

In front of him stood Garrus, who was scratching the back of his head nervously, and in his other hand held what appeared to be a bottle.

"So," he said, obviously uncomfortable, inexperienced in the ways of romance (even with members of his own species), trying to make a good and lasting impression. "I'm not late or anything, right?"

"You're just on time," replied the human, smiling, stepping aside on the threshold of the door into his quarters.

"Um…I brought something," the turian said, and he held out his hand, in which he held a long slender glass bottle that appeared to be filled with a dark-red liquid.

Shepard took it, and looked at the bottle, reading the words on the stamping it had on the front.

"Garrus," he asked, after he had finished reading, looking up at him, "this is Tazendan wine from, well, forty years ago. How much did you pay for this?"

"Well, it cost me quite a few credits," was the reply. "But I don't really have much use for buying anything at the moment, so I figured I would buy something special. You know, this being a," he gulped, "special occasion."

There was a silence between the two. Then;

"You shouldn't have, Garrus."

"You don't like the wine, do you?"

"What? No – of course I appreciate it. I mean, Hell, forty-year old Tazendan wine…Man, that's got to be a treat."And he grinned, before he said; "Thank you"

"It was a pleasure, Commander. And it's a pity I can't drink the wine."

"Oh. Well, I have some turian drinks, here. 'Course, they don't look as good as this wine you brought me, but it's either those or you drinking this wine and-"

"Suffering an allergic reaction?"

"Exactly."

The turian scoffed, and entered, his heart beating faster than normal, his dextro-amino based blood pumping rapidly across his body as he tried to let loose, to quote a human expression. He looked at Shepard, his commander, his friend, and (he hated to admit it) his lover before he looked down at his feet before looking back up again.

He was actually impressed with what Shepard had done: the table, although a simple foldable, looked nice enough, and he was impressed by the food he saw set on the table (_I didn't even know he could cook human food, let alone turian, _was his first thought, but he was glad)

"Have a seat," instructed Shepard, holding the bottle of Tazendan wine. He went to his desk, opening up cabinets, looking for a suitable wine-glass. He fumbled over several medals and finally found his wine-glass, made of an expensive crystalline glass from volus world of Kaitain, nestled amongst his old Alliance war medals.

* * *

><p>They two of them ate, and Shepard almost laughed out loud when Garrus told him that he was surprised that he had managed to cook turian food.<p>

He anxiously waited to open the wine from the beginning of the dinner. Once the two had finished their food, he took his wine-glass, and opened the wine bottle using a metallic cork-opener to remove the cork. He put his nose to the rim of the bottle as soon as he opened it, taking in the bitter slightly-fruity aroma of the forty-year old wine.

"Ah," he said, smacking his lips as he tilted the bottle over delicately, allowing some of the dark-red liquid to flow onto the wine-glass, while the turian looked on with curiosity.

Carefully raising the wine-glass to his mouth, he took a drink.

"Well?" the alien asked, holding up his own glass full of a purple-colored turian alcoholic drink made from a mix of distilled fruits native to Palaven.

Shepard brought the glass down slowly, before setting it on the table and wiping his lips with the back of his mouth.

"Amazing," he replied, grinning. He took the bottle with both hands and looked at it, then looked back up again. "Really, Garrus. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Commander," was the response.

* * *

><p>After they had eaten, the two of them were lying on the large bed, side-by-side. Garrus had his arm over Shepard's chest, and the two were silent, staring up at the ceiling, content to simply be with each other.<p>

It was the turian that broke that silence.

"That was a good meal you cooked, Shepard. I didn't know you knew anything about turian cuisine."

The human grinned, and pressed his head up to Garrus' neck.

"You idiot. I didn't cook," he whispered, before kissing hm.

"Oh…" said Garrus, embarrassed. He had really thought he had cooked the meal. He now supposed the meal had either been already prepared (maybe frozen?) or made by the mess-hall cook. But he felt stupid for not knowing.

"Yeah," Shepard replied, smiling. "You know I'm not a good cook. I've never really had the time to learn to cook anyways. You know, because of being in the military for so long. And, I mean, if I can barely cook my own species' food, just imagine trying to make turian food?"

"Yeah. I understand that."

"But, you did enjoy the meal, right?"

"Of course."

"Alright. Just wanting to make sure."

"It's been great, Commander. And I'm glad you liked the wine. It made all those credits worth it. I just wish I could've drunk some of it with you. I could smell it, but that's not the same."

"I'm sorry, Garrus. I hope that drink I gave you was fine."

"It was."

There was a silence, the two of them at a loss for words. But, then again, it seemed better that way, to simply be silent, and hold each other.

After all, words weren't enough.


	2. Chapter 2

When Shepard woke up next morning, Garrus was gone.

It disappointed him. He had been looking forward to waking up and feeling the warm weight of the turian by his side.

_Damn it._

Instead, the side of the bed next to him was empty, and there was a slight crease on the sheets where the turian had slept. He placed his hand on the spot where Garrus had slept.

It was cold.

He sat up, putting his hand to his forehead. He hated waking up in space; no matter how much one got used to being in a starship, one always missed the warm sunlight of the early morning, among other things.

He stood up, and quickly got dressed, while staring outside the resistant-glass window beside his bed.

_Always stars, _he would think, suddenly tired, and also annoyed by those white points of light hovering carelessly in the black void. He was tired of seeing stars. It seemed it was all he ever saw.

_I'm tired, _he thought._ I don't know how long I can keep this up._

* * *

><p>The minute he walked into the Combat Information Center, Miranda, who seemed to have been waiting for him, looked up at him, with a noticeable expression of relief in her face.<p>

"Commander," she said, walking up to him, holding a data-packet in one hand. "Straight from the Illusive Man."

He grabbed the data-packet, skimped through it.

_More Colonies Abducted: Santanni, Comporelleon, Niyasha, Gliese._

_Updated Reported Sighting of Mysterious and Unidentified Flying Objects (UFOs) in: Vega, Delicass, Balut._

"God-damnit," he sighed. Even with the Collectors destroyed, there seemed no end to the wave of disappearances. With a flicker of despair, he considered that the Reapers had already entered the galaxy, and that it was only a matter of time before they reached Citadel space.

He wished he had been born different; he wished that he could have been born into a normal family, enjoyed a normal childhood. He wished that the Reapers had never come into existence.

_But damnit, _he thought._ If my life had been any different, I would have never met Garrus._

"You alright, Shepard?" came Miranda's voice from what seemed to be a galaxy away. He focused his eyes on her, and it took him a few seconds to recollect himself before answering,

"Yes, Miranda. Thank you for these reports."

She nodded, and walked away.

He wished he could have gone down to see Garrus. But he knew he couldn't. He had to act professional; people were under his command, and he needed to set an example. Besides, he didn't want to distract Garrus from anything productive.

He held on to the reports she had given him, and walked over to his personal terminal.

Well, no matter what he thought or did, things didn't take care of themselves.

At least not yet, anyways.

* * *

><p>He was sitting in the mess hall by himself, listening to an audio-log Miranda had given him. The information given by the log was invaluable – it pointed to what appeared to be yet another specimen of Reaper technology found on a small interspecies colony world called Tralfamadore.<p>

The Reaper artefact, according to the audio-log, had been discovered by a band of children during a school field-trip. The area where it had been discovered had purportedly also been known for electromagnetic disturbances and for odd animal behaviour.

"Hey there," said someone behind him. He was startled from his reverie, and he turned off the recorded audio-log.

He turned around, to see the turian behind him, leaning against the wall.

"Hey, Garrus."

"Commander. You've been here quite a while."

"Yes; been busy with some intel-"

"I heard. Something about an ancient artefact on some colony."

"Exactly. But not just any artefact. A Reaper artefact."

The turian looked up, suddenly interested.

"A Reaper artefact?"

Shepard stood up, grabbing the audio-log and putting it into the pocket of his pants.

"That's right," he said, smiling, walking up to Garrus and putting his arm around his waist. The turian responded in kind by pressing his mouth against Shepard's forehead.

"God, Commander," he said softly. "you really manage to outdo yourself every time, don't you?"

"Only for you, Garrus."


	3. Chapter 3

"You're the only reason I keep fighting, Garrus," he said, staring at the stars.

"You and me both know that's not true, Shepard," came the reply from the turian, ever calm and supportive.

"I'm not lying."

"Surely, you don't want your species to become extinct, do you? Or, for that matter, my species, or the asari, and salarians, and the other races?"

"I don't care," he said, dismissively. "I don't. Even without the Reapers, this galaxy is a hellhole. The rich and powerful exploiting the weak. Wars and conflicts all over. Interspecies discrimination. Bigotry. Famine. You, Garrus, of all people, should know how true this is. You were in C-Sec: you saw the bureaucrats at work. You were also at Omega."

The turian did not reply, unable to think of a comeback. All of it was true, after all. During his years at C-Sec, he had seen that, despite the supposed affluence and wealth of the Citadel, it was just as dangerous and corrupt as the rest of the galaxy.

And not to even mention Omega, where beggars dying in the streets were a common sight, where bodies were hung on lampposts as a message to rival gangs.

He supposed there was truth to Shepard's words. But he didn't want to think about it. He wanted to believe that the galaxy was worth saving.

After all, he needed a reason to keep on fighting. He wasn't a machine that simply and unquestioningly followed orders, like the Collectors they had defeated. He needed justification.

He was thinking when Shepard spoke: "I can see you're upset."

"I'm just trying to see how you manage to muster the will to fight, if you think like that," he replied.

The human, smiled, and moved closer. He let himself lean on the turian's shoulder.

"I just told you," he said. "I'm fighting for you, Garrus. For us. I'm fighting so that we can end this, and afterwards, we can retire to some little beach world, and live out the rest of our lives, together. Because I'll tell you, I've had enough fighting to last me a lifetime."

And Garrus put his talon-like hand to the side of Shepard's face, thinking. Indeed, retiring did sound like a good idea. He had to admit to himself, he was a little tired. There was too much excitement and instability and unpredictability in his life. He wished for perhaps a bit more peace.

_And a bit more time to spend with him, _thought the turian, smiling as only a turian could.

"You ever heard of a planet called Celephaïs?" asked the human.

"No."

"Oh. Well, it's a nice world, just a mass relay away from Earth. It's a resort world, you know? Been there once, during a mission long ago, when I still worked for the Alliance. Plenty of white-sand beaches, and blue crystalline waters."

"Sounds beautiful."

"Indeed."

"I wouldn't mind, you know, going there," Garrus, said uncomfortably, yet feeling a small sense of excitement and hope inside of him. "Wouldn't mind at all."

"Yeah. And we could sit together on a towel on the beach, and just relax, drinking some beers – or whatever you turians drink," he added. "And we could watch the sun go down, and we wouldn't have a care in the world. Just us two, the cool soft sea breeze, and the knowledge that we saved the galaxy."

The turian envisioned the latter, welcoming the idea.

It wasn't such a bad idea. Not at all.


	4. Chapter 4

They set course for Tralfamadore (located in the Angel Constellation; Phaëton system) a few days later, taking two mass relays from where they were to their destination.

He refused to take Garrus to the surface with him; there was an argument between them, which culminated in the turian simply walking away.

Dazed and angry with himself, he went downside with Thane and Samara.

They landed in an isolated spot in a wooded clearing, about forty miles from the nearest population centre. The sun was high in the sky, but despite that, the air was pleasantly cool.

Oddly enough, it was silent. There was not even the sound of birds. Nor was there any wind, even a breeze. The place was as silent and static as a crypt.

It was a place of the dead.

Shortly afterwards, Shepard noticed that communications with the Normandy had ceased. There was only static.

White noise.

It was disturbing.

"We must be close" came a voice from behind him, sensuous, yet dangerous. It was Samara's voice.

"Yeah," he replied, moving forward, crushing brown dried leaves underneath his feet, and the _crunch _of the leaves as they were stepped was the only sound in the place. He gripped his pistol tightly.

Walking forward, they also realized the auto-targeting systems on the heavy weapons were malfunctioning. No wonder the area had often been referred to as 'The Bermuda of Tralfamadore'.

After walking and searching the surrounding area, they found a rock near a tree. The rock had been inscribed with archaic symbols, which all three of them recognized: the inscriptions were unmistakably of Prothean origin (as to what the symbols meant, none of them knew).

They soon uncovered what appeared to be a small opening, covered by rocks and boulders, and overgrown with local vegetation.

Using his biotics, he moved the largest boulder, which had presented the greatest obstacle. In front of them now lay a small opening, dark and narrow. But it was large enough for them to enter.

And so they did.

* * *

><p>They came back disappointed.<p>

The artefact had been nothing more than an ancient Reaper indoctrination device. He had uncovered similar devices on other worlds, and Cerberus had already began studying them. Thus, the artefact was useless.

They had also encountered a few husks, and then, as a matter of course, destroyed the device.

There was nothing else of value in the small and ruined grotto. They exited, to find the magnetic disturbances were gone.

Looking at his comm. relay, he discovered there had been several calls from the Normandy. He picked up, and told them that he was just fine, as was Samara and Thane.

* * *

><p>He went up to his quarters and stayed there. Garrus was still angry at him, he guessed. Out of his window, he could see Tralfamadore, floating in the cold uninhabitable expanse of space. A rare jewel amidst the thousands, if not more, of uninhabitable and hostile rocks for planets the galaxy had to offer.<p>

What made him miserable was that the lead had led to nothing. He hoped the lead would have led him to something which could be used against the Reapers. But the lead had led to a dead end.

And to top it all of, Garrus was angry at him.

There was nobody to comfort him, to simply cling on to.

_But damn it, Garrus, I did it for you, _he thought angrily. _I did it for your safety._

He snapped his fingers, and the holo-visor came on.

"_-well, Angela,_" was saying a human male to an asari, "_so your family is coming over? I'm nervous – what will they think of you when they know you're with a human?_"

He snapped his fingers again, before the asari from the sitcom could respond, and the channel changed. Over and over, he snapped them, changing channel to channel, until he stopped at a turian channel, where a show about scandalous marriages and affairs was being broadcast.

Seated on a studio in front of an audience, there was a pair, made up of a turian female and a male human.

The turian female claimed that although the two had been married happily for years, the human had, at the same time, been cheating on her for all those years, supposedly because he wanted 'to go native,' as she claimed.

Before the human could respond to defend himself, the turian host stated that "this just proves it, humans can't be trusted!"

There was laughter from the audience (mostly turian), while the human, seated on a chair, brought his hand to his head, his mouth moving as he said something, which was drowned out by the laughter of the audience.


	5. Chapter 5

He woke up next 'morning' with a bad taste in his mouth. He reached over for the drawer next to his bed, and drunk some water from a glass he always put on the bedside stand, just in case.

After he drank the water, he sat up, feeling tired and drained. Sighing, he stood up, and walked around his quarters, stopping at the fish tank to observe the little fish. There was the Illium Skald fish swimming around, facing the glass, while the Thessian Sunfish floated placidly near the green strands of sea-weed.

He then turned to the model starships he had in his glass case. Carefully, he opened the case, and took out the miniature model replica of the asari dreadnought, the _Destiny Ascension, _which had been destroyed during the Geth attack on the Citadel.

_And I'm the one that made that decision, _he thought with a chill, looking at the model he held in his hands, trying to imagine how it must have felt to die when the dreadnought exploded after being critically damaged. With another shiver, he realized that he too had died, two years ago.

With care, he put the model back into the case, looking at all the other models he had.

His eyes were eventually drawn to the model of Sovereign. He stared long and hard at the thing, and after looking at it for some seconds, he became disturbed. Opening the glass case, he took the Reaper model (which so many believed to be simply a Geth warship. If only!) and without a second glance, he threw it into the trash bin.

_Where it belongs, _he thought.

* * *

><p>He popped a pill a short while later. His head hurt, throbbing.<p>

_It's stress, _he thought to himself, as he dressed himself. Stealing another quick glance at the clock, he saw the time was 9:45 AM Standard Earth time.

* * *

><p>He sat by himself in the mess hall, and in his hand he held a cup which contained a rare commodity for the commander: coffee.<p>

He brought the cup to his mouth, and drank, savoring the rich and earthy flavor of the hot drink, which was a luxury that was granted only to him because of his status. Behind him, personnel bustled busily to and from their posts.

"My family, as soon as they heard about the disappearances, returned to Earth," he heard a passing crewman say to another. "And sure enough, a few weeks after they packed up and left, the reports came in that Carcosa had been attacked and its habitants unable to be accounted for."

"That's incredible."

"Yeah. And you know what? The Alliance didn't care that these small colonies were being attacked. But I bet if the Collectors had attacked one of the big, urban, industrial Alliance worlds like Vega, or Comporelleon, or Muritan, or Bekenstein, there would have been a huge publicized backlash. They would have sent a fleet to investigate."

"Yeah," said the other crewman, and they continued walking, until Shepard was unable to hear them.

He continued to drink, until the last of the dark brown liquid was gone, leaving behind small drops which stained the white glass, giving it a yellowish look.

Sighing, he looked at the bottom of the cup. He didn't particularly feel like doing anything. It's not like there was anything that required his immediate attention anyways.

He was about to stand up when he heard a familiar voice behind him say; "Hey."

He looked around, to see the turian standing there at the side of his chair, looking tired and downcast.

"Hey, Garrus," he replied.

"Is it alright if I sit next to you, Commander?"

"Of course."

Hesitant at first, the turian pulled up the chair, before he sat down and put his hands on the table, fidgeting with his talon-like fingers, obviously nervous.

Neither of them spoke.

It was the turian that broke the silence. He looked down, and the mandibles at both sides of his face moved a little. His blue eyes, so deep and sharp, looked saddened.

"Shepard," he started, struggling, unable to look at the commander in the eyes. "Forgive me." He stopped, and hesitated before continuing. "I shouldn't have argued with you over whether to have taken me or not on the mission. You are my commander, and my superior."

He closed his eyes, and inhaled sharply.

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head.

The Commander remained quiet, keeping his eyes fixed on the bottom of the glass cup. Slowly, very slowly, he turned around gradually.

"It's alright, Garrus," he said. "It was my fault too. I just wanted to keep you-"

But before he could finish, Garrus had thrown his arms around Shepard, embracing him tightly and burying his face on the human's shoulder.


	6. Chapter 6

That night, after eating, the two of them went to the starboard observation post, sitting down on one of the leather couches. Shepard leaned over, letting his head rest on the turian's shoulder, while the other caressed his face softly.

They watched the stars for a while, before they began to talk.

"Look, Commander. Did you see that?" asked Garrus in his flanging voice, looking straight ahead and pointing ahead with one of his three fingers. "It was a comet, I think."

"No," he replied, looking, unable to see anything but darkness and stars.

"Oh."

* * *

><p>They walked to the commander's quarters some time later, leaning on each other.<p>

It was late, and most of the crew had already gone to sleep, while a few remained in the mess hall, talking in hushed voices so as to not be too loud.

They stopped right before reaching the quarters.

"You going to sleep with me today?" he asked. "Or, what?"

"I think it would be best if I slept with the rest of the crew, Shepard," he said, looking around uncomfortably, afraid he might insult him. "You know, they might get restless if you continue show me preferential treatment."

Shepard nodded, a little bit hurt inside, but outwardly, he showed nothing but that brave rational self that everyone in the galaxy had seen hundreds, if not thousands, of times on the vids.

"Yeah, you're right," he replied, crossing his arms and shifting his weight from one leg to another. He knew the turian was right, but still.

"Shepard-"

"It's fine, Garrus. Really, I understand."

"I'm not trying to put you off, Command-"

"I know that."

He sighed, looking at Shepard, who was everything to him. If it hadn't been for the famed turian discipline in him, he would have given in.

"Hey, no hard feelings, alright?" he said, opening his arms out.

"Yeah, none," replied the human, smiling, as they embraced tightly.

Shepard, reached up and kissed the turian on the cheek, pressing his lips against the hard, plate-like mandibles.

Afterwards, they let go.

"Good night, Shepard."

"Good night, Garrus," he replied, as he watched the turian walk away to the crew's quarters. He stayed there, looking at him, until he disappeared around a corner, and then, he walked into his quarters by himself, the door closing behind him.

* * *

><p>He couldn't sleep. For one, he had grown used to feeling Garrus' body beside him, used to feeling that warm weight by his side.<p>

It was also hot. He could feel himself sweating a little, the thin sheets under him sticking to his skin. He turned around, feeling the heat of his body making the pillow and mattress warm. After a while, it became unbearable.

"EDI," he said into the darkness, not knowing whether it was the room that was hot or his own body temperature.

Almost instantaneously, a blue orb of light appeared at the far right corner of the room, bathing the room in ghostly headache-inducing white-bluish light.

"Yes, Shepard?" asked a calm synthesized female voice.

"Do you think it would be possible for you to lower the temperature in this room?" he asked, sitting up, rubbing the thin layer of sweat that covered his forehead. "It's too hot."

"The temperature in this room is fifteen degrees Celsius, or seventy-seven degrees Fahrenheit, Shepard. There is no reason for you to think it's hot. This is room temperature," replied the mechanical female voice.

He waved his hand, shaking his hand in annoyance.

"Just do it." And then, warily, added; "And I mean lower the temperature only by a few degrees."

"I know, Shepard. I wouldn't lower the temperature to intolerable levels," she said, her voice sounding as if there was sarcasm in it.

"Thanks, EDI," he said, after which, she retreated back into the Normandy, disappearing. As soon as she had, the room was left in darkness once more. He laid back, hands behind his head.

A few minutes later, he noticed that the room was somewhat cooler. He shivered, and he pulled up one of the thin blankets to cover his naked shoulders. He closed his eyes, slowly, drifted off into sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

He was asked by Miranda to come to her quarters early in the morning. After a quick shower and a visit to the mess hall, he went to her.

The door automatically slid open, and he entered her spacious quarters, which, in terms of space, rivaled his own.

She was, as usual, sitting down behind her desk, working (or so it seemed – but on what?) at the various computer terminals in front of her. All over her desk lay data-pads and packets, and even a few sheets of paper, which were organized into neat piles.

"Shepard," she said, raising her head and looking up at him as the door behind him slid closed. "Right on time, too."

"You called me?" he asked, raising his brow and crossing his arms.

"Yes," she said, and with a press of a button, the computer terminals went off. She stood up, and walked towards him.

When she stood up, he couldn't help but look at her perfect figure: slim, curved, the very definition and embodiment of what it was to be a woman. Well, at least physically, at least.

"I called you here for two things, Shepard," she told him, standing in front of him, one hand on her waist.

"What?"

"First things first. The Illusive Man sent us a lead. A former mercenary named Scytale. Acted as an intermediate between Collectors and their clients. Now, the Collectors are destroyed, but the Illusive Man wants some more specimens of their technology, as would be expected. After all, it is Reaper technology."

He scowled, already suspicious.

"More specimens?" he asked, trying to keep his voice in check. "He already has the entire Collector base to study, and he wants more?"

"Shepard, I know you don't trust him-"

"And who would?"

"This isn't about who you like and don't like, Shepard," she replied, calmly. She knew how idealistic – even naïve to a point – he was. And she also knew how stubborn he could be. "This is about humanity-"

"It is not about humanity, Miranda," he retorted. "This is not just about us, it's about all of us. Asari, salarian, turian, all of us. The Reapers are after every one of us. And until you stop thinking as if you're alone, the Reapers might as well have won."

There was a silence, in which both of them stood there, facing each other.

_Typical of Shepard to say that, _she thought, and a ghost of a smile flickered across her face for an instant, before she composed herself again. It was what she liked about Shepard; the stubbornness, that holier-than-thou attitude of his. At first, it had annoyed her.

But she had come to accept him for what and how he was. He had saved her life, even, during their suicide mission. Not that she had expected him to _leave _her to die.

So they stood there, and she kept silent, until Shepard spoke.

"Alright," he said, sighing. "And where is this Scytale fellow to be found?"

She smiled, telling him the coordinates; "A world called Naraj," she said. "Located in the Aldebaaran system, in the Pleiades cluster. And don't worry about memorizing that, Shepard. I'll have it sent to your terminal."

"Okay," he said. "So, what was the other thing you wanted to talk about?"

She sighed, and turned around, putting her hand to her forehead. It wasn't going to be easy to say it.

"Shepard-" she started, then stopped, unable to find a better way to word what she was about to say. She knew he was going to respond aggressively, in any case.

"What is it?" he asked, concerned, taking a step forward, noticing her agitation.

"It's about Garrus," she said, as quickly as she could, turning around to face the Commander.

He suddenly looked at her, his face turned stiff and emotionless. She'd only seen him with such a face on a few occasions; either way, it wasn't a good sign.

"What about him?"

"Shepard, don't go getting mad at me. It's just what the Illusive Man wanted-"

"Tell me," he said, in a low growling voice. The mention of the Illusive Man and his lover in conjunction with each other had made him nervous.

_Seems like I've struck a nerve_, she thought, observing his face, which showed a subdued anger, as well as curiosity and worry.

"Do you love him?" she asked, softly.

"Yes," he replied, without any hesitation, almost as if daring her to insult him or criticize him for it.

She nodded.

"Listen to me," she told him, and she walked up to him, putting her hand on his broad shoulders. He looked at the hand, then at her, demanding an explanation, and she continued. "I am going to tell you what the Illusive Man wanted me to convey to you, and nothing more and nothing less. What I am about to say to you is not how I feel. "

He looked at her and nodded, and she backed away from him, and unable to look at Shepard's eyes, looked at a point near the ground as she spoke;

"The Illusive Man believes that you having a non-human lover is a weakness. As you remember, Cerberus brought you back because you were a symbol; a symbol that humanity could stand alone against all odds. According to him, if it becomes public that you and a turian are involved, it weakens that image you projected, that image of humanity standing alone."

She paused, too afraid to look up at his face, and continued.

"He would prefer it if you took up a human lover. He thinks it would look bad if it became known that an alien were the subject of you affections. He justified it by stating that the public would perceive it negatively due to the fact that it would seem that you, heroic Commander Shepard, were relying on an alien for emotional support."

She finished, and slowly, she looked up, already imagining how his face would look.

For one second, she was reminded of an ancient Bible her father had owned; it had been an old Terran copy from the 19th century, a true antique. But she remembered a particular image from it that had terrified her; it had been a painting of a demon, spitting fire from its mouth and its eyes blazing red, tormenting sinners in Hell.

She was reminded of that terrible image, and for some reason, she could see Shepard looking like that, with fire coming from his mouth and red blazing eyes (with a jolt, she was reminded of how he had had those red blazing eyes, back when the cybernetic implants were being put in him).

She faced him. His face was angry. The only time she had ever seen him so angry and disgusted was when he had seen the Human-Reaper.

Looking at his face, she felt scared, but also, she felt the urge to apologize for what she had said, even if what she had said had not been her own.

"Shepard, I'm sorry-"

"The Illusive Man doesn't control me," he said coldly, turning around. "And he'll be damned if he tries to. He may have given me my life, but by God, he can't control me."

_He's mad now, _she thought as he stormed off, the door sliding open as he exited, then closing. She sat back on her desk, and the computer terminals came back on as she did. She continued to stare at the door, and felt disgusted by what she had said.

They had not been her own words, but just the fact that she'd said them made her feel guilty.

And for the first time since she had joined Cerberus, she considered and toyed around with the idea that perhaps the Illusive Man, despite his wealth and influence, was just simply another xenophobic fanatic.


	8. Chapter 8

Garrus was at the battery console, in the middle of some calibrations. He worked at the console screen diligently and with great care, checking the Normandy's systems and making sure that enough energy could be relegated to the weapons and defense systems in a set amount of time.

His blue eyes observed the small processor make a countless number of calculations, determining which non-essential system could be spared of energy in order to bring the shields to full power.

Suddenly, there was a small _bleep _from the console, and a flashing red light. He scowled, moving closer and scrutinizing the screen. The words _improper connection _appeared in flashing white letters, and scowled, cursing.

_Damn it, _he thought. It was more than likely an error caused by some physical malfunction ; perhaps a cable down in engineering had come loose, or become disconnected. Either way, he had to go check it out himself.

He went down to the engineering section of the ship, though the hall and down the elevator. After getting out, he walked past the human engineers (Gabriella and Kenneth were their names, or so he thought), who, while busy at their respective posts, were also talking, silently but noticeably.

He walked down the stairs to the engineering deck, and was stunned to see Jack seating on a little protrusion from the wall. She was staring emptily into space, and when she heard his footsteps, swirls of biotic energy appeared around her. Her head turned rapidly in his direction.

"Oh," she said, seeing him, her tense shoulders relaxing, the biotic energy around her dissipating into nothing. "It's you. What do you want?"

"Um," he started, warily, "I came down here to check some of the weapons systems."

"Yeah. Whatever," she replied. "Just make it quick."

He powered on his omni-tool, and a few seconds later, the orange glow of the interface surrounded his lower arm.

Nervously, he checked around the room, trying to find anything that might be off. As he did, he could feel her eyes on him, observing him, looking at him, and he tried to avoid her gaze. He extended his omni-tool, but found nothing.

"Pfft, I can't believe you and Shepard are getting it on."

He turned around to look at her.

_From where did that come from? _he asked himself, irritated, but reminding himself that the woman in front of him was one of the most powerful biotics alive. He quickly glanced at het tattoo-covered body with some disgust, and turned back to his work.

He remained silent, continuing to scan for anything that could be the source of the problem. There was a silence, until her voice startled him, making him jump.

"Personally, I never thought I'd ever see a turian-human couple."

He looked up, and tried to maintain eye focus with her.

"Yeah," he replied, powering off his omni-tool. "I never thought I'd end up with a human, either. Always thought I would find myself a nice turian female, settle down, and have children. Instead, look at me; getting together with a male human, among other things."

She nodded, a half smile on her face. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, but it was something good. Or, at the least, something that Jack considered to be good. For a few seconds, he could have sworn he was seeing her happy. But it was only a few seconds before it was just her again, smiling.

With a nod on his part, he climbed up the stairs, leaving her by herself, as she preferred to be.

* * *

><p>As he climbed up the stairs, he thought and pondered over what Jack had said.<p>

'_So, you and Shepard are getting it on?'_

Personally, as a turian, he was conservative. The thought that the others of the crew knew he was 'getting it on with Shepard' made him uncomfortable, embarrassed. He preferred to keep it discrete. But humans were different. He had told Shepard how he felt a couple of times, only to have the human tell him it was nothing to be ashamed of.

As he was thinking, he looked up. He could see the quarian working at a console, next to Gabriella and Kenneth.

He liked Tali. She was quite amiable, as well as determined. Quite skilled with electronics, too. Besides that, she was the only other member of the crew who had been with Shepard in the original Normandy, back when they were hunting for Saren.

And also, she was the only one besides him that had to eat differently than the rest of the crew. They were a minority, forced to eat dextro-amino acid based food.

So, he went up to her, hoping perhaps she could help him.

Nervously, he tapped her shoulder, and she turned around to face him. He couldn't see what expression she hid behind her mask,

"Garrus," she said, sounding surprised. He scratched the back of his neck, explaining why he was there for. He told her as quickly as simple as he could.

After he had finished, he heard her sigh.

"It was an error on my part," she explained, as she stepped aside, allowing him to work the console on which she worked, which overlooked the mass effect core. "I thought it was a systems error when I saw that all that energy was being diverted into the weapons-"

"It was just a projection, not what was actually happening-"

"I know that now," she said, putting a hand to her head, cursing in quarian.

He said nothing, continuing to work at the console, trying to find the problem. It took him a while to find the faulty connection, and once he had found it, worked to by-pass security protocols to re-establish the connection.

"So, how are you, Garrus?" she asked him as she stood at his side, watching him work diligently. Without looking up, he answered her question with: "Fine."

Then, compelled to do so, he asked; "And you?"

"Well, you know, scared. But I don't regret anything. I'm glad I got to join and fight with Shepard again. It makes me feel good, to know I'm part of something bigger, you know?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," he replied, as the words _connection established _appeared on-screen. He looked up, relieved, and stepped aside.

"Thank you, Tali," he said, turning around and walking off.

He was already exiting the engineering room when he heard her voice; "See you around, Garrus!"


End file.
